


I See Myself In You

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bodyswap, Bottom!Eames, Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames and Arthur finally go fuck themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See Myself In You

**Author's Note:**

> Mildly cracky; it is bodyswap, after all. Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) Round 6 for the square _body alteration/injury_. Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/pseuds/anatsuno).

Eames rolled onto his side and stretched out under the sheets. As he did so, he couldn’t help noticing that a good bit of his body mass was simply… gone. His bulk didn’t impede his progress; turning over was suddenly an easier matter.

He opened his eyes, and on a hunch, in the dim morning light raised his hand to look at it.

It was not his hand.

He rolled over in the opposite direction, only to see what appeared to be himself lying there, fast asleep, mouth a bit open.

Eames looked at his hand again. It was Arthur’s hand, that was certain. That meant -- He looked under the sheets. There were Arthur’s little nipples, his flat stomach, his snug boxer briefs. Eames hastily tugged them down a bit for a look. Just to confirm.

This most likely meant--

“Bloody hell,” he said, in Arthur’s voice. “Bloody hell,” he added, at the sound of that. “Fuck. ...Arthur,” he said, shaking his body awake.

What was hopefully Arthur furrowed his brow in extreme grumpy annoyance -- yes, this was he -- and the effect on Eames’ face was very fetching if Eames said so himself. But no time to admire that just now. He looked deeply confused as well, no doubt because he was looking at himself and hearing an English accent. “Arthur. Listen, all right. Something’s happened.” Arthur sat up instantly, then looked down at himself. 

“What the fuck?” Arthur said baldly, in Eames’ timbre but in an American accent. “Holy shit.” Eames coughed discreetly to prevent a burst of laughter, but there was no fooling Arthur. “This isn’t funny.”

“It is a bit funny,” Eames said, and Arthur glared at him.

“Is this a dream?” Arthur demanded, voice threatening to break in his alarm, even in Eames’ body.

Eames’ jacket was draped over the headboard’s post; he reached for it, thinking of how funny it would look on Arthur’s build, and took his totem from a pocket, checking it discreetly. “Doesn’t seem to be, love.” 

Arthur was leaning over the side of the bed to pick up his trousers from the floor, and was digging through the pockets for his own totem. “Do you know,” Eames remarked, “I’ve got a rather nice arse, I don’t believe I get enough credit for that.“

Arthur muttered invective, checked his totem, and laid back down, looking murderous. Eames made a mental note to try that particular expression once this was all over.

“Not a dream?”

Arthur shook his head. “Not someone else’s, anyway. But you’re not in my dream and I’m not in your dream, either.” He frowned, thinking. “I remember falling asleep. I deadbolted the door, and the windows are locked. Did you piss off a witch, or something? Stop fidgeting,” he added.

Eames, unaware he had been fidgeting with the waistband of the little boxer-briefs, shrugged. “Can’t remember everyone I’ve pissed off who might have magical powers. May as well make the best of it.” He got a hand in his underwear, shoving it down a bit. Arthur looked over at him and rolled his eyes. 

“Really, at a time like this?”

“You must be joking. It’s not every day I literally wake up with someone else’s morning wood.” He started to stroke himself, slowly, noting the calluses on Arthur’s hand. He was familiar enough with his cock, though, of course, never before like this.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Arthur said, watching almost in spite of himself.

“Oh, by all means, feel free to correct me,” Eames said with a wink.

“This is fucked up,” Arthur sighed, sitting up and reaching for Eames, to adjust his grip. “You sound ridiculous, by the way.”

“You know just what to say, darling,” Eames said, leaning in to kiss him before he could back away.

It seemed clear to Eames that Arthur did enjoy having Eames’ mouth with which to kiss and be kissed. He grinned, and Arthur broke the kiss and sighed in consternation. “Dimples,” he said. Eames grinned harder, and nodded, and stroked himself. 

“My god, I’m gorgeous,” he remarked, looking down. 

Arthur scoffed, and Eames looked up. Arthur was blushing, and discreetly rubbing the side of his thumb over his nipple, trying to look as though he were scratching his chest or something.

“Oh, have at it, Arthur, have your way with yourself,” Eames encouraged. “Or myself, as the case may be.”

Arthur rolled his shoulders experimentally, and shifted a bit, seeming to settle in his current bulk more. Eames reached out to tweak his unattended nipple, and Arthur stifled a yelp. 

“Foreskin,” Eames whispered, prompting, and Arthur’s eyes lit up, his hand going immediately into his pants. 

“I’d love to fuck you,” Eames murmured, as Arthur toyed with his foreskin. “Just to give you an idea of what it’s like when you fuck me.”

“Also so you can finally go fuck yourself,” Arthur returned, a little breathless.

“Yes, finally,” Eames agreed, resuming his slow, idle wanking.

“Yeah, you can fuck me,” Arthur said. After reluctantly letting go of his cock, Arthur stripped off and pawed through the bedside drawer to get the slick with a speed Eames’ body wasn’t really accustomed to. “I love to watch you do this,” he said, applying a generous amount to his fingers before spreading his thighs and pressing them back, all the better to get his fingers in himself. It was an arresting sight. “You’re not as flexible as I am,” Arthur remarked, voice tight.

“Sorry,” Eames said, rolling his eyes briefly. He kissed Arthur’s knee. “Few humans are. Do let me know if I can help. You may need it, your cock is the biggest I’ve ever had, you know.”

Arthur went ruddy, and paused for a moment. “You’re kidding.”

“Well, don’t let it go to your head. Oh Christ, I should never have told you, you’ll be insufferable now.” Eames sighed, letting the long fingers belonging to Arthur’s body join in the fun at Arthur’s current entrance.

“Fuck me,” Arthur said abruptly. “I want to feel it.”

“Now who’s fucking himself?” Eames couldn’t resist pointing out, giving himself a few idle strokes with his free hand.

“Shut up and come on.” Arthur slid his fingers out, and following suit, Eames pressed his legs back, lined himself up, and pushed in.

Arthur grunted, closing his eyes tightly for a moment, and Eames paused; at that, Arthur hooked a leg behind his back and pulled him in. “Come on, asshole.” With a chuckle, Eames rolled his especially agile hips, and pressed deep. Arthur exhaled, arching, letting his head drop back to the pillow.

“I’m going to fuck you hard,” Eames declared, keeping still, “because I know you can take it.” He grinned Arthur’s very smug grin and waggled his brow. Arthur’s mouth dropped open a bit. Eames couldn’t blame anyone who had ever lusted after his mouth. He shifted to slide his thumb between Arthur’s lips; Arthur cottoned on quickly, curling his tongue around its tip.

“Harder than you usually fuck me, I might add,” Eames said, and started to move.

Arthur groaned around his thumb, closing his eyes. He moved his ankles just behind Eames’ hips, pulling him in, leveraging his strength to keep Eames fucking him at the same pace. One hand went to his back, the other to his thigh, pulling him in for harder, deeper thrusts. 

Recovering from this enthusiastic reception, Eames moved his hands to either side of Arthur’s head, shifted his weight, and thrust. What a joy it was to have Arthur’s light, lean, powerful body as his tool, to feel the way Eames’ body anchored and directed him. 

“So this is what you see,” Eames said, looking between them. Now that he was a bit more used to it, looking at his own body inhabited by someone else wasn’t as unsettling; it was like looking in a mirror, something he was very used to doing. Although, to be sure, it was out of the ordinary. 

Arthur tightened around him, and he gasped. “I love it when you do that,” Arthur panted, by way of explanation. 

“Is it supremely egotistical to say this feels amazing? When whatever this is is over,” Eames said, “you really must fuck me like this, I insist. As hard as you can. Shake the bed.” He proceeded to do just that, grabbing the headboard with both hands for leverage.

“Fuck,” Arthur got out, clamping his legs more tightly onto Eames’ hips. “If we switch back before too long, you’re definitely gonna be feeling this.”

“Oh, I certainly hope so.” The backs of Eames’ thighs were starting to sweat.

“I’m starting to get… kind of an inferiority complex here,” Arthur panted. 

“What do you mean, love,” Eames said, revelling in the fact that he was still going at the same pace. Yes, Arthur was in better shape than he himself was. A bit. And younger. A bit.

“Well,” Arthur said, pausing to swallow, “you’re better at fucking me than I am.” His brow creased in confusion for a moment. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, don’t look at it like that,” Eames soothed, grinning. “Think of it as... very unique and personal instruction of my preferences in future. And I don’t think I’m better, per se.”

“Okay, don’t laugh,” Arthur said, and Eames’ brows shot up in anticipation, “but this is giving me new appreciation for... everyone who’s ever bottomed for me. Fuck.” 

Eames cackled. “Serves you right.”

“If it’s such an inconvenience, feel free to stop at any time,” Arthur replied, deploying Eames’ signature sardonic brow-arching.

“Never,” Eames declared. “I shall take your cock whenever possible. Even though it is, as you see, somewhat of a challenge.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” Arthur slid his hand from Eames’ back to his cock between them, shuddering as he gave it a squeeze and a pull. “Jesus, this is so much easier with foreskin.”

Eames looked down at Arthur’s cock -- er, his own -- the familiar sight of the plump head appearing and disappearing from inside its protective cover of foreskin sending a pulse of arousal through him at this new angle. 

“Thumb over the tip, remember,” he murmured, watching. Arthur nodded, rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock.

“Can I come,” he said, starting to sound a bit wrecked.

“Arthur! Asking to come, will wonders never cease,” Eames panted.

“I thought you’d like that.”

“I do. Are you perhaps saying you’d like me to ask you if I can come?”

“Maybe.” Arthur tilted his head back, sounding strained as he asked, “Well, can I?”

“Mm, in a moment,” Eames said, pausing to roll his hips before fucking away into Arthur with abandon, hips slapping against his arse and knocking the breath from him. They were both rather sweaty at this juncture. 

Arthur wanked himself faster, very close now, Eames knew. “Dammit, Eames,” he got out.

“All right, you can come,” Eames allowed, watching as Arthur came almost immediately, eyes on his cock as he came on his belly, chest heaving. Arthur shivered, tightening around him and making sounds low in his throat that were almost words. Eames found himself coming as well, pressing deep. Arthur closed his eyes, and Eames closed his for a moment.

When he opened them, he was looking up at Arthur, who blinked sweat from his eyes, brow creasing in the next moment as they stared at each other.

“You’re kidding. Coming switched us back?” Arthur said, sounding wrecked.

“So it would seem,” Eames said, shifting his hips. Arthur was still semi-hard. Eames hummed in appreciation. “Too bad, though. I was starting to really enjoy being you.”

“You weren’t me,” Arthur said, carefully drawing out. “You had my body.”

“And what a lovely body it is,” Eames said, reaching for Arthur, to kiss him. Arthur lowered himself onto him, their hot, sweat-slicked skin sliding as Arthur settled, meeting his kiss.

“Did you like being me?” Eames asked, as Arthur kissed his jaw, the sweaty side of his neck.

“I did,” Arthur said, nipping the soft skin just under his ear. “You’re so… solid.”

“Am I perhaps handsome as well?”

“And handsome. Yeah.” Arthur raised himself up a bit. “You still feel me?”

“Absolutely,” Eames said, sliding his hands down the smooth skin of Arthur’s sides. “Don’t forget, sweetheart, you can be rough with me, I enjoy it.”

“Mmm.” Arthur leaned in, and kissed his forehead. “If you say so.” He smiled, and Eames chuckled, fond, and cupped his jaw, stretching up for a proper kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/), Liz, and Sib for all your help!


End file.
